Pseudo-Legendary (rev 1)
by Venia Silente
Summary: Oh noes! The princess has been kidnapped by a witch and is held prisoner in a castle guarded by a dragon! Paladin! Thou must face the danger and rescue her! Careful, it is dangerous to go alone! Take this! [DO-DE-DOOO] Do the events reflect this danger and urgency, or are the characters facing up something simpler and more mundane, like a picnic afternoon?


**OH NOES!** This is terrible! The witch from the prairie has kidnapped our princess and holds her hostage in another castle, guarded by a dragon! Paladin! Thou must head there to face danger and rescue her! Careful, it is dangerous to go alone! Take this! [_You get three (3) partners_] [ _DO-DE-DOOO _ ]

Are events this ominous and terrible, with danger coming left and right? Or do the characters involved find themselves facing a much simpler, more mundane situation, not unlike a picnic afternoon? Find out the answer in this small one-shot that deals primarily with how we make out events on our own perspective of the world. Translated from the original Spanish "_Cuasi Legendario_" entry for the _PkStation_ community, now I offer this to English audiences as a sort of after-night Valentine's treat.

So I leave you with...

_**Pseudo Legendary**_

_By Venia Silente_

* * *

This day was not going well so far, thought the marching paladin as he made his way to the hills under the unforgiving sun, but at least they weren't going horribly. Instead of his fine garments with protective plates over the chest and other delicate areas he could be wearing a sturdy and heavy full-plate armor – that would hinder his movement. Instead of a sunny day today could be a rainstorm, or a hailstorm, perhaps even combined with the darkness of the night that gives way to the hunting habits of the strangest creatures. Instead of a single kidnapping it could have been a bloody attack on the citadel by foreign troops. Instead of the company of his partners, he could be going on his own to face the wrath of the creatures ahead. Oh and all this could have happened on his free day.

The situation at hand had started not long before the sun reached its zenith. It took only a blink of carelessness, or perhaps merely excessive trust; the lady Witch Fox of the Prairies, the familiar monster of one of the most important castes of the citadel, had suddenly turned her head leaf and kidnapped the maiden. The creature then took the human to the nearby hills and held her prisoner in a small tower, connected to this world by little more than a windowsill and a ramp.

With only this, it would have been no problem for the gallant paladin to go through the usual "take his loved one back" task – as he should by divine oath; yet fate was openly of the opinion that such tasks should not be _easy_, and was dealing a crueler hand. At the howl of nature's witch, hardship was summoned in the form of two of the partner monsters that protected the citadel's noble lineage – and they still did so, as in their duty to protect the maiden they would interpret any attempt to invade and "rescue" her as a sign of hostility.

The young paladin himself had been once tasked with the defenses of the citadel, and in his arena he had hosted a wide assortment of citizens and their partner monsters, who had flocked to the place every Lūnae, Mercuriī and Veneris. Flock did as well warriors from other regions, itching to put the blood-forged skills they and their own partners had developed over the course of the years to test; then, once content with the result, they would leave in various directions, roaming the land for evils to smite and dreams to chase.

Today, however, the citadel's best was to be tested alone against the protective forces the paladin himself had helped acquire and train with utmost dedication. Well, not exactly alone – he made sure to bring three combatant monsters along including the Fox of Jagged Fur, master of the element of thunder and his very own partner since childhood. Following shortly behind walked the Skirted Wrestler, an orange-ish monster of thick body armed with large, powerful palms who came from far away lands where the traders called his race 'Hariteyama', and the Dancer in the Wind, a purple-ish creature of misleadingly frail complexion with the ability to float and fling objects with but a thought, whom the traders had named 'Charem'.

After a short walk uphill came the first warning, right when the spiked canine demanded attention from his handler to the tower ahead, at which window's the maiden waved her arms pleading for rescue; the paladin knew trouble had just begun – and in came on the double. "The Brute", challengers called him, "Zangoose" did his trainer; one of the caste's fierce protectors, his dedication made patent by the blur of white and blood-red fur that nearly swiped the big-handed monster off the ground in a surprise attack. So close was the slash aimed to the fighting monster's shoulder that it could easily have been aimed to the heart instead; however a well-timed hand block by the Wrestler was enough to avoid grievous damage, and the fighting monster was quick to counter with a jab using his remaining momentum, his fist spawning flames from the air itself, the attack landing as the Brute was trying to recover from his failed strike.

With that singular clash and a shaking of the ground the skirmish began. The jolting canine felt the ground shift under his feet and managed to alert his comrades just before the grass twisted itself into livelier, thicker, larger forms, rearranged and grown into thorny branches that chased after the human with malevolent intent; the dancing battler meanwhile had already lifted itself off the ground by means of the mind, and assumed a sitting position mid-air; from there, he materialized a refulgent corona of inner power from which an energy beam was born, aimed at the enemy hidden between the bushes. The Witch of the Prairies gracefully leapt from branch to branch, climbed up and down, evading the meditating dancer's attacks to then fire at the paladin and his partners with a barrage of forest green leaves, each as sharpened as the knives the customers used to cut meat back at the citadel.

Such would the fate of the paladin and his partners be were they not to overcome this opposition.

The confrontation continued with the spiky canine countering the barrages from the witch with his own, while the paladin made his way uphill, past rocks and branches, meeting the air or the mud to avoid the dangers where his partners were not able to defend him. But as minutes passed neither band found itself any closer to landing a decisive strike, nor the paladin found himself much closer to his maiden.

So was until the Skirted Wrestler skillfully turned around an attempted attack by the Brute and with an offhand punch shoved him against a very thick tree, the Brute's claws stuck into the trunk, further attacks from him impeded for the moment.

Not far from there the floating dancer shielded the jolting fox against a blast of searing light from the witch, her power nurtured by the Sun, and the Fox of Jagged Fur lost no time in leaping to the highest branches nearby, to summon around him the raging booms of the skies once again; this time the blinding arc of light hit squarely on the mark, and the Witch fell from her pedestal to the thorns below defeated, yelping in pain. The canine darted towards her and proceeded to apprehend her in his own way, pushing himself on top of her, pressing her forepaws with his own and cautiously clamping her neck between his fangs.

The paladin allowed himself a break and a smile – now despite the branches and the slope of the hill his road was clear and he would be able to rescue the maiden in distress. Little did that last – a sudden roar deafened all hope and the paladin turned to the tower, his certainty withered, as a shadow arose from behind the tower to darken the battlefield. The jolting fox's fur instinctively stood on end – more than it already was – as he dragged away the fallen Witch, and the meditating dancer was quick to fall back to the nearest branch that would serve as a wall. There was still the dragon left! The most dangerous among the creatures the Witch could have summoned to serve, a giant reptile of blue scales, armored belly and unrivaled destructive power, foreigners would call it "Bohmander" but here it was known as "The Cataclysm", for once it took to the skies all would turn to dust and wreckage before its rage had subsided.

Both battle beasts accompanying the paladin quickly rose to try and oppose the larger beast that gave no time, no warning growl before diving in near the base of the hill to then close his distance in low flight, his red wings tearing the thorny branches they met. In but a second the dragon blasted through the group and the Wrestler beside the paladin fell, rolling downhill, while the paladin himself had only been spared from becoming the subject of late epic tales by his partner fox's timely tackle.

"Hariteyama!" was the cry the paladin gave from the ground, to which he received no answer; the thunder fox raised his fur again and launched a barrage of stings towards his airborne opponent, who made no more effort than to let a draconic simile of a laugh and then beat his wings to take up to the air, allowing the stings to bounce off his hardened underbelly. One deep breath later the bringer of cataclysm let out a stream of fire and, tracing an arc with his neck, let the fire chase the human and the fox around the complex maze of branches, forcing them to separate. The paladin turned downhill to try and reach his wrestler partner, only to find him unconscious, his head crashed against a rock; while the thunder fox tried to steer the dragon's attention off from him and towards the Witch, the paladin pulled the wrestler's body around to notice a slash wound crossing his chest. Only one hit, dealing critical damage!

Next came down the meditating dancer; he had valiantly summoned the powers of the mind to try and paralyze the dragon mid-flight, only to meet the dragon's malicious leer, piercing into his mind and summoning primal fears that caused the dancer to lose focus and drop his defenses just long enough to provide the dragon an opening. And the dragon used it, after missing a clawing attack against the thunder fox, he took to the air and reached the dancer with a tail slap that hit him squarely in the head and sent him crashing down to the ground like a falling star, rendering him unconscious.

Now it was all up to the paladin and the thunder fox, both of them resisting the Cataclysm's onslaught while trying, inch by inch, to reach the maiden's prison from where she, leaning from the windowsill as much as she could, cried all the moral support she could give to them.

Yet the smoke, the heat and the devastation of the terrain soon made reaching the top of the hill nearly impossible, and the paladin soon saw himself forced to fold back to one of the few trees in the area that held its trunk in place... All he could do was listen to the maiden's good fortune wishes – until they were suddenly replaced by a yelp, the sound of a body hitting the ground, then silence.

It all stopped there – everyone still awake turned their sights towards the tower, at which window no maiden was visible anymore. The Fox the most surprised, muzzle agape and staring in disbelief from his position on the ground binding the Witch, while the Cataclysm drew slow, pained circles in the air, silently waiting for instructions.

Only a moment later a somewhat pained feminine voice was heard from the base of the tower:

"I think I'm alright boys, I fell on the grass! ...You just keep having your fun!"

Relief took over all present, expressed in sighs; Salamence was quick to land near the playground slide by the tower so he could move closer and examine his trainer, who was rubbing the bruises she had acquired on certain parts of her body. Jolteon and Leafeon, no longer pushed against the ground, nervously frolicked for a moment before rushing to the girl as well, the Leafeon female licking her face and palm. Zangoose had managed to unhook himself from the tree and was making his way uphill together with Hariyama, both Pokémon helping each other reach the playground and the tower. Medicham was at the young Gym Leader's side, helping treat the man's wounds while the man shook off his clothes and gave funny looks at the various trees patches of grass that had suffered today's skirmish.

The young man gave his Pokémon a signal for them to give the lady some privacy and make themselves scarce; as soon as they started going their own ways, he approached her and offered his hand to help her to stand up. Medicham, who was still nearby, glanced at them, shrugged them off and floated away to somewhere.

"We would do well to cease meeting like this," suggested the young man, "or the neighbours might get scared."

"You mean dating like this?" asked the lady, shaking the grass and dirt off her clothes.

The young man's response was limited to a helpless shrug, prompting the lady to cross her arms.

"Well I'm having fun. And this whole 'fight your way uphill' like a real battle makes you look attractive," she added, "unlike those easy boring gym challenges."

The couple shared furtive glances at each other, their eyes stating clearly how much they liked this particular courtship ritual; after a moment the lady approached her not-my-boyfriend (yet) and murmured in his ear.

"And your Pokémon have fun with this too. City battles must be boring for them too."

She then turned her sight to her nearby Salamence resting by the tower and spoke softly still.

"Him too. I think all this helps his self-esteem."

The Gym Leader smiled at himself and gave a look to a nearby patch of grass nearby, where the two Eeveelutions were sharing a moment as well: the Gym Leader's Jolteon was barely resisting the female's attentions, what with her taking advantage of the grassy terrain to keep him from darting away.

"They must like all of this too, yes," he commented.

"And don't people always say the dragons in legends are always commanded by some evil wizard... or sorceress?" she replied.

Leafeon finally managed to restrain the male Jolteon with a grassy knot and subjected him to the licky licky treatment – which he had to admit was enjoyable.

The young man motioned for the lady to rest her head against his shoulders, and the two turned around to take a look at the city downhill while their Pokémon – at least, some of them – would hopefully work on tidying up the place. It was after a moment of shared silence that he more or less idly commented:

"It could be me manipulating these meetings and keeping them from decaying into routine, what do you think?"

She did not turn to him or answered directly, but she did smile warmly.

They both smiled.

Meanwhile the Salamence awaited stoically by the tower, his neck extended to take a good look at the work from just a bit higher, his posture hiding his contentment as he watched his Trainer lady and her friends enjoy the times.

«_This is how I like __life_» he thought, letting his tail betray a bit of his pleasure. «_Just like in the times of old when our race soared the skies, __ravaging all we could survey, our roars announcing our force as unstoppable, uncontainable, undeterred..._»

He extended his wings and rested flat on the ground, letting himself bask under the sun, and allowed himself one next train of thought contrasted against those of the humans nearby.

«_Compared to the feeble opponents in the human cities and their restrained terms of engagement, these lively meetings are just the warmup I need... for when I rejoin my race __as we raise to a new era of greatness__. I shall be ready._»

The Salamence grinned in his daydream.

«_That will be a great life__..._»


End file.
